


Some you win and some, well, you win.

by TheWeirdyMcWeirderson



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky's Arm, Dom!Bucky (kinda), F/M, Lead up to smut, Pet Names, Teasing, explicit words, kinda smut, light chocking I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdyMcWeirderson/pseuds/TheWeirdyMcWeirderson
Summary: Bucky and the Reader engage in some teasing games.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/You
Kudos: 56





	Some you win and some, well, you win.

**Author's Note:**

> You may wonder what this is, the answer to that is I don’t know :)  
> It’s written in a third person’s point of view, but it’s still reader insert, I guess. ‘*Name’ stand for (Y/n), sorry, I’m lazy :) 

She watches as he moves from the counter to the fridge, entranced by the way his sweats shift following his movements, loving the way they cling to his thighs. She’s in absolute love with those _thighs of betrayal_ of his.

She can’t help herself; she’s fucking starving and James Buchanan Barnes is a whole damn meal.

His metal arm pulls the fridge open, and she’s certain her cheeks are flushing red courtesy of the thoughts swirling in her head about that beautiful arm in general, and those thick fingers of his in particular. His hand resurfaces from behind the door with a water bottle and the panties she’s wearing dampen before he even brings it up to his lips.

Her eyes are glued to him as his pink tongue darts out for a quick swipe over those full lips of his before the neck of the bottle makes contact with them. She groans her appreciation and his cloudy blues find her; a small, smug smile spreading on his face as he purposefully lets a drop escape to trail down his chin and along his neck.

She envisions her tongue slowly licking up that trail and in doing so, she clenches her thighs together, anything to get some friction and alleviate the ache. Bucky is full on grinning now as he lowers the bottle, there’s a teasing laugh that lights up his eyes and she wants nothing more than to walk over to him and kiss the smugness off his beautiful face. She doesn’t, though, because she already knows how this dance ends, and it’s a very happy ending.

James Buchanan Barnes is a fucking tease and she’s a sucker for the anticipation.

“Something you want, dollface?”

She shakes her head, smiles seductively at him and slides down in the armchair she’s sitting on, spreading her legs as she gets in a more comfortable position for their little game. His eyes dart down, and they darken, pupils dilating to leave a barely visible ring of the steely blue she loves so much. Bucky lets his eyes linger and then slowly brings them up, taking his sweet ass time in mapping her body.

There’s a filthy promise in Bucky’s eyes when they meet hers once more, and her heart skips a beat when he leans back against the counter. He’s not going to make the first move. Teasing, however, he’s going to do plenty of that.

His hand reaches for the fruit basket and he has the guts of winking her way as he grabs a banana. She chuckles with a shake of her head, he might be sexy as hell, but he is just as childish.

Bucky takes his time as he peels the fruit, eyes locked on hers, watching as her gaze follows his fingers; he knows her weaknesses and he plans on using each one of them to his advantage. As he brings the banana up to take his first bite, he makes it so that his movements deliberately pull his t-shirt up in the process, blessing her with a glimpse of his well-defined lower abdomen. That’s the only reason behind his sweats always hanging low on his hips.

She loves the glimpses and he loves how much she loves them.

The happy trail she hardly has a chance to see, is like a neon sign directing her to the jackpot. If she wasn’t so competitive, she’d already be sliding to her knees. Her tongue pokes out, wetting her parted lips before it settles against the corner of mouth, teasing him as much as it’s teasing her as their minds wander.

His right hand finds his cock and he readjusts himself, the way his nostrils flare and his bicep flexes with the twitch of his fingers, informs her of the effect her simple actions are having on him. She feels forever in debt to whoever invented muscle tees.

Bucky undresses her with his eyes, and his next bite is far more frustration ridden than the first.

When he switches hands, brings the metal one down to cup himself, she crumbles, breaks and melts right there under his gaze and he grins wolfishly. She gets up, sways her way to him and he licks his lips, traps the lower one under his teeth when she comes to stand in front of him.

The half-eaten banana is discarded on the counter behind him as he leans back on his hands, waiting for her next move. He fucking loves winning.

Her hand reaches up, thumb tracing his bottom lip, releasing it from his teeth while she cups his jaw. She stares until she gets her fill and then leans up to ghost her lips on his.

“Such a pretty fucking face. Just made to be sat on.”

He ducks down, feathers his lips along her cheekbones as he walks her back until he has her trapped against the island. Thigh slotting between hers, he brings his hands low on her hips, drags them tortuously up until they borrow under the t-shirt she has on; the shiver that runs through her is nothing compared to things he's going to do to her and yet, it does _things_ to him.

Oh yeah, he _really_ fucking loves winning.

“Too bad, dollface, 's already taken.”

She pouts briefly, and damn if he doesn’t love the little jut of her bottom lip, always begging to be sucked on. Then her hands are moving from where they have found their place around his midriff, gliding down his sides, until they reach his Adonis belt and pull on the elastic band of the stupid grey sweatpants she adores on him. She may complain about what a tease he is, but she’s just as bad.

“Anything I can do to convince you to make an exception, sarge?”

“Getting desperate for it, aren’t we?”

He nudges her nose with his, whispers the words against her lips; hands pulling her down to press on his thigh as he flexes his quad just to get that sharp intake of breath out of her.

“Don’t get cocky, Barnes, you may have won this round, but I’m gonna have you _fucking begging_ next time.”

A chuckle rumbles up his chest, husky and deep, and she feels it reverberating against her chest as his eyes bore into hers, flames lighting his calming blues with dark intent. He pulls her sharply up until their hips connect and she can feel how hard his cock is for her; he smells the arousal pooling in her panties, hears the gush of wetness.

“Bold of you to threaten when you know who’s gonna be making the rules, *Name.” 

“Bold of you to assume I can’t take your worst, big boy.”

The sentence finishes in a rush of breath out of her parted lips as he easily hoists her up, metal arm around her waist as his flesh hand wraps around her throat. She loves his blatant displays of brute force, they tap in some primitive part of her brain and never fail to render her a speechless, needy mess for him.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, dollface.”

James Buchanan Barnes loves winning, and sometimes, when he gets like this, she really loves losing.


End file.
